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Bar Talk
Back to 2011 Logs Goa Rogue Slipstream ---------------------------------------------------------------- The Tina ---------------------------------------------------------------- Slipstream strolls into the bar, sizing up the place after having heard about it being whispered among the mechs. "Figures, mechs always hiding the good spots away from the femmes." she murmurs softly. Goa's more scuffed and tarnished than usual, sober, and visibly slouched, even in spite of his back's natural bulk. For once, he doesn't have any fuel in hand, and looks almost meditative, soaking in the sounds. Slipstream moves toward him, noticing the slouch. "Relaxing or do you normally have such bad posture Goa?" she asks. Goa's eyes brighten subtly as he slowly becomes aware of the inquiry. "mmmMM?-" His irritated drone snaps to a surprised, half-muffled squeak as he recognizes the seeker. "What? No..." He turns to face her. "Decide to come find your go-getter, hm?" Slipstream chuckles a little as she realizes she probably snapped you out of some deep thoughts of one kind or another. "A go-getter? Mmm, doubt I would find /that/ here in a bar." she notes. "May I sit?" Goa looks up. "I... ah, can't stop you?" He doesn't seem all-there quite yet. "You didn't seem like the barhopping type. Looking for something?" Goa mutters to himself. "Though I suppose a lasso would be really handy in a slug-out..." Slipstream takes a seat, she makes a face and looks down at the seat. "Ew." she mutters, "What do you mechs do in here.. disgusting." the femme furthers, "Oh somewhere to unwind a little, maybe have a nice chat with someone. I'm still rather new here." Goa musters a more familiar smirk. "Oh. Really? I figured the 'Cons snagged you fliers as soon as you sparked nowadays." He glances back out over the bar floor. Slipstream smiles a little to that, "Not exactly. Got to learn to fly right, learn to fight, and in general have the desire to be a warrior. Otherwise you really aren't worth the hassle." Goa says, in a mocking tone, "Huh. Look't that, a seeker that fights. Never seen that before." He adds, "I don't see many Autobots flying around. Must run in the programming, or something." Goa's attention seems to fixate. "So, if you want to talk," he leans up, dispelling his slouch, "What programming brings a femme like you to Polyhex?" Slipstream levels you this hard look, then turns a moment, "Barkeep! Two house drinks and make it snappy or I show you a rope trick you won't forget!" then looking back at you, she crosses her right leg over her left knee, resting her hands on top of the right knee. "Got to be a complete package, Goa, when you are a femme you got to prove yourself three times better than any mech to even get any recognition. Especially for a Con femme." then a little smile given to you, "What programming? Mmm, oh I suppose it just has a lot to do with proving that looks are deceiving and you should not underestimate a femme." Goa watches the issued command with hungry eyes, absorbing the intonation and craft displayed. "Deceiving is an interesting choice of words." His remaining sleepiness rolls away at the prospect of a drink. "I'm not sure why you'd get treated any different, but I'll take your word for it. Is self-proving really the big thing around here, then? It's been a while... we were happy just staying online." His vocals halt, hiccupping slightly, as he shies away in his seat, embarrassed at the information he let slip. "... When I was stuck on that planet, I mean." Slipstream's tone was just the right mix of 'don't mess with me I'm a *****' and 'go ahead don't serve me, see what happens'. The drinks arrive and she nods her head, offering a credit for the delivery. "I may not be a pretty face, Goa, but then pretty faces typically distract mechs from fighting." she notes matter of factly as she takes up her mug and takes a small sip of the energon within. She makes a little face, "Ugh.. don't you mechs have taste units anymore.. this is utter swill." she sighs, drumming her fingers on her knee and takes another sip before she say, "Oh yes, proving yourself is big around here. Got to show those of higher rank you are worthy to be their underling, worthy of possibly being put higher in the echelons of rank." she smiles a hint at the hiccup, "Nervous much, Goa?" Goa practically swipes his drink from the barkeep and sucks it down as Slipstream talks. If there's anything unsatisfactory about the blend, he isn't acknowledging it. He sets the tankard down with a clang, loud enough to upset the acoustics of the hole-in-the-wall bar. His eyes seem to be aware of the disturbance, darting out and glaring at a patron or two, but his neck is too stiff to move. "You'd be, if you'd been expecting the walls to uproot and try a bite of you for the last hundred cycles." Relaxing, he smiles again. "Not to mention the other 'cons. I guess I proved myself by keeping the monsters from killing them in their sleep. If Cybertron doubts me, I suppose I can handle what it throws at me." Slipstream watches you drain that mug like it was your last drink ever. She hmms softly, studying you quietly with her fingers still tapping on her knee. She murmurs just loud enough for you to hear her, "Expecting me to bite you then? Sorry to disappoint you, ground pounder friend, but I don't typically bite mechs I just met. Actually I never had to bite one come to think of it." she gives a hint of a humored smile, "Do tell me Goa, what monsters are these of which you speak? Regail me with where you came from that has you all jumpy hm?" The ridges over Goa's eyes raise, then furrow. "That's alright. I'm sure I'll manage without another chunk of plating missing. Just barely. And 'friend'?" His grin, more gleeful, bares teeth. "I'm not sure there's much to tell, unless you're some kind of zookeeper. Slag knows I've spent enough time watching them. Ever seen a sharkticon?" Slipstream takes a sip of her drink, peering at the baring of teeth. She lowers the mug to the table in front of her. "No, but I heard they exist." Goa shrugs. "I'm sure you get the general idea. Smash, ah, five or six of those together. You'll probably want to use a hammer. Take out the techno-type parts. Also, teach it to throw rocks. Boulders, really." Slipstream hmms, "You are not making much sense. Perhaps you over energized." Goa says, "I get that a lot, but I'm under-energized if anything. Had a long day down in the tunnels. That's where I got this mess from." He brushes some hardened-on slag off his cylindrical forearm, which must've been splashed there at some point. Slipstream glances over the stuff upon the ground pounder and nods, "Haven't found the shower room then hmm?" she asks, "The sonics are good are removing such from the armor, not to mention inner mechanisms." she notes then sips on her drink again. Goa focuses back on the seeker-- "Oh, and I looked up your Trypticon. Took me a while, and I think I got the wrong dossier. Turns into a fortress?" Slipstream rolls her shoulders in a semblance of a shrug, "To be honest I have no clue. The description of the beast is a bipedal creature of some sort with the smarts of a very out of date medical drone." Goa says, "And sonic showers? You have them?...!" He shoots a questioning look. "Even down here in the slums? Our ship didn't even have one... material bath if you were lucky, and nothing if you weren't. Wasn't really lucky after the crash." Goa rolls his eyes. "Figures an engineer would give a lumbering liability no brains. It just wouldn't be inconvenient enough otherwise." Slipstream sips on her drink, finishing it off just to get it over with, then a nod. "Yes there is one." she states, "You may want to look into one soon before that stuff on you does something to your armor that would get the medics a bit miffed." a little smile and nods, "Easier to control I suppose." Goa sounds sing-song. "Medics, too! You planet side Decepticons really spare no expense, do you?" He glances over himself, trying to remember what he looked like with fresh paint. Or wax. "Anyway, I can't say that's a bad idea," he says, extending his arm to offer a handshake, "And I kid. I could use a friend in the sky, especially if one of my ... ah, old competitors shows up in 'Hex." Slipstream nods, "Oh yes, a must have when you have a army getting hurt in battles." she tells the ground pounder, then glancing at his hand. "How quaint." she murmurs, then accepts it. She has a fairly good grip. "Old competitors?" Goa's grip is gentle, but the shake is strong. "Yeah. That was a long time ago..." He trails off. "But why the slag not. Back before my traveling stint, I was an ... oh, if you want to refer to allegiance like that, early adopter. I moved and, when I could, traded energon stock with the Decepticons on my own. I had ... associates who weren't too happy about that," he says, punctuated with a frown. Goa says, "I actually used to know this great brewery, west-side. Went looking for it, but didn't want to probe too far onto Autobot ground. I guess I know what side that proprietor sold out to." Slipstream does the shake then withdraws her hand, peering down at a bit of dirt in her palm. She hmms softly to your words, "Smart not to try your luck alone. Best to have some company for such seek and find missions." she points out. Goa nods to himself. "Maybe not too much company," he says, looking at his empty mug thoughtfully, "But not none. I think I like backup more than company." He stretches his legs a tic before standing up. "I should get going. The salvage isn't waiting." Slipstream cocks her head a little, "Salvage?" she asks, "I wasn't aware we were that hard up." she muses. Goa says, "You might not be, but do I look rich to you? Energon doesn't grow on trees." Rogue says, "Actually it does...if you know where to look." As she moves into the Tina, and makes her way over to her normal table. "And our stockpile is fine." Slipstream looks over to the newcomer, "Indeed?" Goa tilts his head to one side, peering at ... another seeker? "Do enlighten me." Rogue says, "We have more than enough supplies...if we run low, we'll just raid Crystal city again. They love to share with us" Slipstream slowly rises from the table she was sharing with Goa. "With those guardians in place? You guys /are/ hard up." Goa takes a few long strides to Rogue's table and ingratiates himself to a chair, falling into it gracelessly, empty tankard in hand. "So who's we?" Rogue says, "last time they attacked from inside...the guardians weren't a problem." She turns to look at Goa, "We?..we are the Decepticon Empire."" Slipstream moves past them, putting her empty mug on the bar. "You.." giving the barkeep a 'come hither' wiggle of a finger. Goa nods. "Inside. I've seen the routes in, below the surface. I didn't see a particularly easy way back out, though." He leans forward, hunched over the table. "But I just got here. Perhaps the greater Empire knows more, and would like to tell me about it?" Goa rests his chin on his hands and smiles with very feigned obliviousness. Rogue eyes the odd mech, "I don't believe you need such information. I believe your job is to simply fight and die for the empire." Slipstream levels a look at the barkeep, "Get me a /real/ drink." she hisses softly, "Not that swill you gave me." Goa steeples his fingers in front of his helmet's forehead. "Fighting's as good as anything," he says, moving to rest his chin on his thumbs, "But for continuity's sake, I don't think I have any business dying." His eyes are locked on the Decepticon's expression. "By whose authority? I'm thirsty." Slipstream gets another mug of something else entirely, she takes a sip. Then a slow smile forms, "That's much better. I may spare you the rope trick." she purrs. Rogue says, "is there something you want?..or do you always ask question and loyal decepticon should know the answers too?" Goa narrows his eyes sharply at the question of his loyalty, and seems to shift in his shoulders. "Oh, but of course. I've only been out of the loop since Polyhex was a shipping depot -- of course I should know!" His clasped hands fall to the table. Slipstream turns now to observe you two, sipping on her drink. Goa says, "Some rations would be nice. Maybe some acknowledgement that the little trader is here." Rogue says, "A shipping depot?...Medical need to have a look at you. You seem to have mental problems as well. And why would I care about a trader. The empire takes what it wants, it doesn't trade for anything." Slipstream makes a mental note to look that up later. Continuing to sip, watch. Goa says, "So I've seen. You know how we Decepticons are, though, always adapting." He takes a quick glance at Slipstream over his shoulder, then resumes his focus. "Perhaps you're the type of 'con who needs an example?" Rogue raises an eyebrow, "an example? You do seem to drift." Slipstream smiles a bit as she sips her drink, staying out of this one. Goa's eagerness turns to confusion. "Drift?" Rogue says, "Never mind...I'm sure it's over your head" Slipstream moves over now, standing next to them both. "I believe I should introduce myself." this to Rogue, "Name is Slipstream." Goa eases back into his seat, eyeing over Rogue with fascination. Rogue eyes Slipstream a moment, "I'll keep that in mind." As she crosses her arms in front of her. "Something I can help with?..or am I just popular tonight?" Goa says nothing, but continues watching with piercing concentration. His arm snags his mug and starts tossing it between his hands, seemingly without his volition. Slipstream smiles a bit, "Nothing at all, just saying hello." she tells Rogue. Rogue thumbs at Goa, "This one yours?" Slipstream laughs a little, "Mine? Goodness no, I just met the mech really." Goa stops. "Say I'm one of those dreaded neutrals. Where's your recruitment?" Rogue says, "Well, if you’re a neutral, and you’re in here..you’re a spy. And we kill spies.."" Slipstream shakes her head and puts her hand on the mech's shoulder. "Don't put your chassis in the slag pit so quick." Goa just smiles, lowering his voice. "If I was bound for the pit, you wouldn't be talking to me." Addressing the other femme, he points candidly to the violet insignia of the Decepticons, displayed proudly on his chest, none the worse for wear. "But I'm not, am I? So where's my share?" Rogue says, "Your share?" Goa nods. "My share of supplies, and by the pit, maybe a few of my kind to share the road with. You certainly seem to know about this sort of thing." Category:Logs Category:2011 Logs Category:Goa's Logs Category:Rogue's Logs Category:Slipstream's Logs